


only a beginning

by blanket



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (i hope so at least), Awkwardness, Brigitte is a bit of a klutz in this, F/F, Meet-Cute, MekaMechanicWeek, huh, more pining than originally planned, the tags are changing on the go sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-20 07:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14256252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanket/pseuds/blanket
Summary: Joining Overwatch with Reinhardt, Brigitte didn't expect much. As it turned out, the watchpoint had some surprises for her.





	1. Of Mazes and Falls

Watchpoint Gibraltar was a giant maze of long, mosty metal corridors, most of which were dusty and not used in quite a while. It was understandable that one gorilla - even a genius one with a college diploma - couldn't possibly find a way to keep track of every single passage and room in the base, though he was always happy to give general directions if anyone needed them. That much Brigitte understood and even expected when she arrived with Reinhardt at the Spanish coast.

As soon as she could, she started to wander around the watchpoint. She liked knowing her surroundings, just like she liked having her tools and workshop organized. Knowing which corridor to pass and what doors to keep open kept her mind at ease and definitely helped operating in case those Talon guys wanted to attack them for one reason or another.  
At first, she considered taking Reinhardt or her father with her, but she dropped this idea quickly. They would probably turn the exploring into some kind of walk down the memory lane and she would feel more like in a museum than a new place to call home. In the end, she usually wandered off alone and soon most of the new Overwatch agents knew that if she wasn't working on her armor or scribbling down new ideas in her room, she was somewhere out in the base, usually unreachable.

In her small journeys, she found a lot of old living quarters, still with beds intact and even some personal belongings of some of the previous agents from back when. In a way, those rooms reminded her of cemeteries she saw during her years of travelling with Reinhardt, so she only gave them a quick look before leaving. Other rooms were clearly storages - some filled with old boxes with illegible, clunky handwriting on them, some others with bare shelves or even completely empty. In fact, that was exactly what she would expect to find in a military base being kickstarted to work again by people who had only a vague idea about what they needed.

What she didn't expect, though, was an arcade room.

It was placed on the East wing of the watchpoint, which was mostly not used and covered in dust. Brigitte left this part of the building for the very end of her exploration tours, which was why she discovered the room almost two weeks after she arrived. After some thought, she'd call this someone's private lair, as "arcade" suggested it was being used by multiple people.

It wasn't as big as some of the places she sometimes walked into to kill time when Reinhardt was busy getting drunk at some local bar after a mission, but the inspiration was clear. Brigitte counted five arcade games, all of them pushed next to the walls, while the center of the room was being occupied by a large, pink bean bag chair right across a holo-tv situated on the wall. The table underneath it housed some consoles - most of them was clearly refurbished retro stuff, but Brigitte couldn't really tell them apart in the dim light of LED strips, running just under the ceiling.Only one of the arcade games was running, its bright screen enticing young Lindholm torwards it.

She stepped into the room, furrowing her brow a little. The floor was littered with empty chips packages and green bottles with black caps, also mostly emptied and Brigitte had to be careful where she put her feet. For some reason she thought there was going to be an alarm of sorts, while some part of her brain kept telling her she should just turn away and leave before anyone catches her trying to be stealthy. Eventually, she reached the machine. Her hand caressed the buttons. Brigitte bit her lower lip. _Oh, I'm going to regret this..._

She was about to press one of the buttons but befor she could do that, she heard a stern voice. "What are you doing here?"

Brigitte jumped a little bit and took a giant step back, as far as she could from the arcade game, but doing so she stepped on one of the bottles and lost her balance. Falling down - which she experienced in some kind of weird slow motion - she wished the carpet on the floor would just swallow her whole so she wouldn't have to confront the voice's owner. She felt someone grabbing her by her arm, but the person apparently was too weak to defy the gravity and in the end fell on top of Brigitte, causing the young mechanic's lungs to let out any air left in them.

Brigitte was ready to die. In her mind's eye, she already saw Doctor Zeigler filling out all of the paperwork. _Cause of death: Embarrassment._ She imagined her parents and Reinhardt, standing in silence over her tombstone, decorated with the Ironclad Guild's symbol.

And then the person, who was still lying on top of her, started to laugh.

Brigitte's first thought was that she could listen to this laughter forever.

Her second thought was that she's heard this laughter before.

She opened her eyes as the girl - it was most certainly a girl, a rather small one - was scrambling to get up. The mechanic could only hope her mouth wasn't open wide.

"D-D.va, I-I... Oh damn, is-is that really you?", Brigitte sat up, but when she tried to secure herself with her left hand, she accidentally hit yet another bottle and almost fell back again. That only caused the other girl to laugh a bit more.

"I'm so sorry, so so sorry, I didn't know, I was just, I, never mind, I'm, ah, sorry," Brigitte mumbled, finally getting up, this time focusing more on her surroundings than on the cute way D.va's - because it had to be her, one hundred percent - nose wrinkled when she was laughing. The mechanic shifted her weight from one leg to the other, darting her eyes around the room.

"Hana," the smaller girl said in the end, stretching out her hand. "You can call me Hana."

"Brigitte," said Brigitte, returning the handshake. "I-I didn't know you're going to be there- I-I mean, I didn't know you were a part of Overwatch and that this is your room and I didn't want to spy or anything I just-"

"It's okay," Hana smiled, visibly amused. "You must be Reinhardt's squire, right?"

Brigitte nodded. "How do you know?"

"Oh, Torbjörn kept talking about how he can't wait for Reinhardt to arrive because he wants to see his daughter again. It's not hard to put two and two together," Hana said, pointing at the tattoo on the taller girl's shoulder. "I just didn't know you're going to arrive when I was on a mission, so I didn't expect to see a new face."

Brigitte scratched the back of her neck. "A-anyway," she laughed nervously, "should get going." She tried to back to the entrance, watching out for stray bottles and ignoring Hana's small pout at the same time.

"Oh, y-yeah, sure." Hana smiled a bit, though disappointment in her eyes was more than visible. "I guess I'll see you around?"

"T-totally."

"Okay."

"Yeah."

"Yep."

"Uhm..."

"Oh, right!" Brigitte waved and closed the door, leaving Hana staing in the center of the room. She only made it to the first corner before she sat on the floor with her back pressed to the wall and her face hidden in her hands. She gave herself maybe two days before this instant crush sends her to her grave.


	2. Of Orders and Waiting

It wasn't like she purposefully avoided Hana the few following days.

Okay, she totally did.

It was almost too simple, given how much their daily schedules differed. From what she gathered from talking with Doctor Ziegler, Hana was a night owl that spent most of her free time during the day sleeping in her room - her /proper/ room, that is, not the not-so-secret lair, or "the game room", as the blond medic called it. Brigitte, on the other hand, enjoyed rising with the sun and working in the workshop or training in the gym until afternoon.

So, all in all, no one could say she _avoided Hana_.

Almost a week after she discovered the game room, she was sitting by her own desk, sketching a new prototype for the boosters in Reinhardt's hammer, when she heard a knock on the door. Lena didn't even wait for a permission to enter; she just waltzed into Brigitte's private space, announcing that Commander Morrison wanted to see her as soon as possible.

"Lindholm. Sit down," he pointed to a chair in front of a desk, when she walked in. "I know you're taking your personal training sessions very seriously." Brigitte couldn't read the old soldier's expression, partially because of a large visor obscuring his face. She nodded furiously. "But Overwatch means working in a team, with a lot of other people fighting around you. It's not about going out solo."

"Then why was Hana on a solo mission?" The words escaped Brigitte's mouth before she could stop them. Commander gave her A Look before he continued, unfazed, "You can ask her yourself tomorrow. 6 am, training room four. Don't be late."

Brigitte gulped. "Yes, sir."

\--

"No way." Hana crossed her arms, while her brows knotted. She didn't look even as half threathening as she wanted to, so _of course_ Jack just gave her a stern glance and returned to his paperwork or whatever.

"It's an order," he said, shuffling the loose sheets of reports. One of those was a short synopsis of her own report, which filled Hana with a little bit of dread. The mission went... as good as it could, given that she was out there on her own, but she just wasn't the best with writing objective statements. Even back in the MEKA squad, she just had someone else write her briefs.

She huffed. "Why her?"

"Well," Jack put the papers aside and pulled up a hologram with a recording already playing. Hana saw Torbjörn's daughter, armour-clad and with a focused look in her eyes, swining some kind of a weapon. She couldn't recognize where the fight was taking place, but it was intense, as far as she could tell. There was a flash in the backgroud and that big guy, Reinhardt, dashed through the field of vision. Brigitte ran after him, but suddenly something shook the camera - an explosion, Hana thought, though she couldn't be sure, as Jack didn't turn on the audio - and young mechanic ducked to the side, where she sheltered another soldier from the falling debris with a shield. Hana wanted to watch the rest of the video, but Commander tapped his finger on the control panel and the hologram disappeared. "She's mobile. She's strong. She can protect you and that's exactly what you could use and _you know it_. Also, she could probably repair your meka on the fly."

"I can manage the maintenance by myself, thank you very much," Hana scoffed. She could swear Morrison rolled his eyes at this, but - of course - she couldn't possibly see it. Did he even /have/ eyes to roll?

"Tomorrow, 6 am, training room four. Dismissed."

Hana wished the door wasn't the sliding type, so she could slam it as hard as possible.

\--

Brigitte tried to contain her yawn, the eight one in the last fifteen minutes. Or seventh? She lost the count after the third one.

Training room four wasn't giagantic, but her engineer brain told her Reinhardt could barely reach the end wall if he turned on his boosters in the entrance. Well, should be enough for... whatever they were meant to do there. Brigitte glanced at a window well above the floor level, where Winston and Doctor Zeigler were supposed to be. She saw a gorilla-like silhouette shrug. She sighed. Her armour was optimized to be worn for long periods of time, but it was starting to get a bit heavy when she just stood like that in the middle of a square on the floor.

Suddenly, the door opened and Hana walked in, dressed in her MEKA suit. She waved at the window. "Sorry, sorry, overslept."

Brigitte didn't know if anyone up there heard that excuse, but mech's pilot's appearance was apparently enough, because the lighting in the room changed, going from bright to dim and a little unsettleing. There was a loud pop and a buzz.

"Commander Morrison said he wanted you two to count on each other and synchronize as quickly as possible," Winston sounded as if he was reading what someone else wrote for him earlier. He coughed. "Angela and I will supervise the session to make sure you don't hurt yourselves." Another pause. Brigitte tried giving Hana a small smile, but it went unnoticed - the younger girl was busy yawning. Something fluttered in the mechanic's chest and she was grateful for the fact that her blush couldn't be possibly visible in this light.

"Alright," Winston spoke again. "Let's begin. First task - eliminate as many targets as possible. If a projectile touches any of you, the assignment is over. Go."

As lights flickered, Brigitte took up her battle stance, with her shield at the ready. She heard Hana shuffle as well, preparing for whatever was to come. Three devices on the walls, which Brigitte first thought to be cameras of some sorts, came to life and suddenly the enemies started to appear - hologram silhouettes, build out of cubes and cuboids.

Brigitte raised her arm, ready to swing her flail.

\--

"Good job, Song, Lindholm." Jack's voice came as a surprise, because through the whole training it was Winston who did all the talking. The lights flicked and the room was brightly lit again, just as it was in the beggining of their session. No weird holographic enemies, no hard-light mazes, just an empty room. Hana blinked, lowering her blaster. She looked at the window, where Jack supposedly sat, nodding with Angela and Winston.

Brigitte's armour clattered as she walked closer to the middle of the room.

"You're finished for today. Tomorrow, the same time and place. Dismissed." A pop, a short buzz, and the comms were off. Hana sighed. She had a lot of trouble getting up this morning, after she stress-played Starcraft earlier the whole night, trying to silence the butterflies in her stomach with logical thinking or at least some thrill of completing a mission. Not only it didn't help, but made things far worse.

"I think it's time for a lunch," Brigitte's voice was close and Hana hoped the older girl didn't notice how the tips of her ears turned red. "I could eat a horse!" A sincere laughter boomed in the room. _I wonder if I could make her laugh like that..._ "Would you like to eat together?"

Hana's brain short-circuited. "I'll eat my own horse," she spluttered finally. "I-I mean, I'll eat on my own thanks though bye!"

The meka pilot hurried torwards the entrance to the training room four without looking back even once, leaving Brigitte dumbfounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written while I was almost dead-tired, so sorry for any spelling mistakes.


	3. Of Favors and Tools

Their training sessions continued for almost a week now, with Brigitte and Hana not exchanging a lot of words, save for the necessary callouts during the fights. Commander Morrison wasn't present every time - Brigitte figured a man of his age needed more sleep than some of the younger agents, but she wouldn't dare say that to his face. Each one of the sessions ended more or less awkwardly than the first one; Hana always took off right after the end and the Swede gave the meka pilot around fifteen minutes before leaving the room and heading to the showers. She tried not thinking about it much, but her subconsciousness couldn't help but wonder - why was Hana avoiding her? Did she do something wrong?

She was sitting in the canteen, wolfing down her third bowl of freshly cooked oatmeal, when she heard the door opening and someone's footsteps. As she raised her stare, she saw Hana, walking staright to her table. The younger girl sat in the chair across from Brigitte, but didn't say anything.

"You want some?" she asked after a whole minute of silence, during which she swallowed a large spoonful of oats. Hana blinked and looked at the bowl.

"Are those raisins?"

"Yep."

"Then no, thanks." The gamer shook her head, her brows pursing a little. She raised her gaze from the bowl and looked Brigitte in the eyes. "Listen. I need a favor."

"Ah fahfow?" The mechanic almost choked on another piece of her breakfast. Hana patiently waited for her to finish coughing, though she tapped her fingers on the table for a second.

"Yeah, that one. Can you meet me in the garage two in an hour? My meka needs... Someone to look at it."

"B-but why me?" Brigitte exclaimed, almost spilling the oatmeal with a sudden motion of her hand. "M-my father is more experienced, you should ask him if he has some time."

Hana shook her head, "I don't trust him. No offense," she added quickly. "I-I just think you should get familiar with me. I mean my meka. My meka. Of course." Brigitte tried to dismiss a slight blush blooming on Hana's cheeks and focus on what the Korean was saying. "I mean, you're going to be tending to it if Jack's plans to make us a team work out right," The laughter that escaped Hana's lips could be described as nervous. She waved her hand, standing up. "Okay, gotta go, see you later."

Once again, Brigitte was left utterly confused and it wasn't until she touched her own cheek that she noticed she was blushing. Hard.

\--

Hana was sitting on a stack of crates in the garage, her back leaning against her meka's leg. She was playing _Shiren the Wanderer_ on her Nintendo DS, but paying attention to the game was kind of above her. She kept looking at the metal door, expecting Brigitte to enter any second now.

From the canteen, the meka pilot went straight to the garage, not even stopping to wave hello to Angela, who passed her in the corridor. She wanted to be on time and she knew that if she walked into her room, she would either fall asleep or get lost in one game or another. So here she was, uncomfortable and filled with anxiety, though the latter might have had something to do with butterflies, fluttering in her stomach, and the speed of her heartbeat. She had absolutely no guarantee that the Swede was going to show up, but hey - it was worth a shot, right? No game, no gain. Or whatever.

The console in her hands made a miserable sound and stopped working, leaving Hana alone in her thoughts. Her gaze, so far glued to the entrance, now turned to the treacherous device. Muttering curses under her breath, the gamer stuffed the console into her pocket and crossed her arms. _Brilliant_ , she thought, _now the stress can eat me alive!_

Fortunately, at the same time she heard footsteps and clatter of metal against metal. She jumped off from the crate she was sitting on and hoped her hair looked alright.

"Hey there," said Brigitte, approaching her with a large toolbox in her hand. She was dressed in oil-stained overalls and a washed out t-shirt, which, as one could figure, was her work attire.

Hana grinned. "Hey"

"So what does this girl need?" The mechanic put down her stuff and put her hands on her hips. The pilot couldn't _not_ notice the older girl's muscles and she just _really hoped_ Brigitte wouldn't hear her heartbeat. _Well, first of all, I need those guns around my waist, thanks for asking._

"Hana?" A glove-clad hand waved in front of her nose. "You there?"

Hana blinked rapidly.

"Yeah, sorry, I got lost in my thoughts." _Great wording, keep going._

"Okay," Brigitte sounded suspicious, but didn't ask any further questions. "What do you want me to do?"

_Oh, if you only knew..._  The pilot was _this close_  to slapping her subconsciousness.

Brigitte was already looking at the meka with a watchful eye, walking around it and humming to herself. "I think it's in great condition, you know?" She turned, so she was facing Hana.

"Is it?" Playing dumb was probably the worst tactic, the mechanic possibly already knew that the younger girl was in charge of repairing her vehicle before Brigitte set a foot in the watchpoint. The Swede scratched the back of her neck, looking somewhere to the side.

"If you wanted to test me, you could've told me, you know," she muttered, pursing her eyebrows. Hana was confounded.

"I... That's not why I wanted you to come here," she said, raising her hands in an almost defensive way. "I wanted to spend some time with you! I wanted to get to know you better but all I know for now is that you know where I play my games and officially you are supposed to be my babysitter during the missions just because Jack said so and I just- I really don't know how to tell you that I like you a lot!" Hana slapped her hand over her mouth. She didn't mean to say that, not now, not ever, but here it was; the words hanging heavily in the silence between them. Brigitte froze in place, unmoving, staring directly at the younger girl. She opened her mouth, as if she wanted to say something, but Hana didn't wait. Enough has been said. She turned on her heel and ran through the door, not looking back even once.

\--

The toolbox clattered when her shoe met the metal, the kick not stong enough to send everything inside flying out, but Brigitte felt it anyway. She sighed, lumping her shoulders.

Hana liked her, she said that herself. Then why would she just run away like that? Did she expect the mechanic to do something? _Was it really my fault?_ Her hands rolled into fists. If she learned anything from Reinhardt, besides almost everything she knew about combat and the past of Overwatch, then it was to charge her problems head on. Brigitte marched out of the garage, leaving her tools and a bright pink meka behind her, now on her private quest to find a girl she's been crushing on for almost two weeks.

With some help from Winston, who sounded very concerned about why was Miss Song storming though the corridors as if she was being chased by a whole squadron of Talon operatives, Brigitte managed to find the right door. She's been standing there for a while now, trying to figure out what to say. Every single idea crossing her mind got crossed out almost immidiately, leaving her stuck. Eventually, after taking a deep breath, she knocked on the metal door.

The handle moved slightly, hesitatnly. Brigitte felt her heartbeat pick up and considered just backing out while she still had time. Before she could make up her mind, the door opened just the slightest and a familiar face appeared in the gap.

"Hana", the Swede started, not letting the younger girl drive her off. "I like you too," she confessed, ignoring the blush creeping up on her cheeks. "I'd love to get to know you better and spend my free time with you, just... You always seemed not interested in even talking with me." Brigitte casted her eyes to the ground for a brief second, before she heard Hana's quiet voice.

"I'm not the best with feelings." The door opened a bit wider and the mechanic stepped in. She found herself in a very standard bedroom, almost painfully similar to her own, with the exception of some posters on the wall. She figured the gamer stored most of her more unusual belongings in the game room.

"I'm sorry," Hana spoke again.

"Apology accepted," Brigitte smiled, taking off one of the gloves and offering her hand to the other girl. "Let's start again, okay? Hi, I'm Brigitte." A smaller, softer hand touched her own.

"I'm Hana and I think you look great in those pants."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'm tired, but I managed to write this on time, nice.
> 
> EDIT: I went through all of the chapters and cleaned up the remains of the symbols I use for marking italics and/or words I'm not sure of. Also found some spelling errors and took care of them. Sorry about that.


	4. Of Weight and Soda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the lack of update yesterday, I was too tired to think after a tough day at work. To make up for it, I'm posting not one, but two new chapters, so I'm technically back on track, nice.

A hard-light figure exploded and vanished, hit by Brigitte's flail, while another took a punch on its supposed face from Hana. The lights flicked in a now well-known manner and the remains of the training dummies disappeared. Both girls were breathing heavily, as it was probably one of the hardest sessions they had so far. The Swede didn't even want to think how much worse the next days will be, so she pushed those thought to the back, focusing on checking up if the pilot was alright. Hana's forehead was sprinkled with sweat, her bangs all soggy, but other than that she seemed fine. It was very unlikely that any of them would get hurt during those simulations, but if Brigitte got used to watching her fight partner closely now, she could help her as quickly as possible in case of a real emergency on the battlefield.

"Well done," the comms came alive and they heard Doctor Zeigler's voice. "That would be the end for today and we will see you tomorrow."

\--

"I don't understand how can you fight in this." Hana gestured vaguely in the direction of Brigitte's armor, now put neatly in the corner of the locker room. "It looks so heavy."

"It is," the Swede replied, pulling her hair back in a ponytail. She watched as the smaller girl approached the set of armor. "It's also an official sign of my afilliation with The Crusaders." Brigitte felt a pang of pride when she said those words.

"Aren't they, like, disbanded?" Hana smirked, causing a theatrical gasp to escape the mechanic's mouth.

"How dare you!" she exclaimed exaggeratedly. "There are still _at least_ two Crusaders out there!"

Hana turned to face Brigitte and put a finger on her bottom lip, looking as if she was thinking about something serious. "Do you think I could become one too?" She smiled playfully, despite trying her very best to look as innocent as it gets. The Swede put her hands on her hips, sizing her up.

"Maybe," she admitted eventually, shrugging slightly. "But you would have to fit in the armor first and I don't think you could handle it."

Hana's eyes sparkled and her lips formed a devilish smile. "Is that a challenge?"

"Nope, that's a fact." Brigitte walked up to her armor and lifted one of the smallest parts. "I modified it a bit, but trust me, it's heavier than it looks."

"I went through a military training, remember?" The meka pilot huffed. Her nose creased just a little bit and if Brigitte was to point out the cutest thing in the whole universe, it would be a draw between all of those tiny wrinkles. 

"Alright, alright. You can try if you want to," the mechanic handed her the part she was still holding. Hana grabbed it, radiating confidence which fell bit by bit the longer she held the piece.

"Okay, you're right." She put down the metal piece down as gently as she could. "But it's just because you're buff and have an obvious advantage."

"Then you should visit the gym sometime." Brigitte started putting the armor on a holder, where it would be waiting for tomorrow and yet another training session filled with busting hard-light holograms.

"Okay," Hana raised her chin.

"You're serious?" The older girl's widened a bit.

"Yeah, why not. I survived the military gym, I'll survive this one too." The gamer smiled confidently. "But! You have to watch a movie with me afterwards."

Brigitte laughed wholeheartedly and nodded.

\--

The gym was horrible.

No, wait. The gym _experience_ was horrible. It reminded her of the boot camp she had to go through before joining the MEKA squad. This memory alone was driving her away from the gym for most of her time in the watchpoint, but hit her with full force when she entered the room with Brigitte by her side. She remembered very clearly how strict was the officer supervising their training and how much he used to shout, but this time she tried to keep her cool.

After what felt like twelve hours of workout - even thought, according to the clock above the entrance, they spent only two hours excersizing - Hana and Brigitte headed for the showers, for the second time this day. Still wiping her hair with a towel, the Korean ambled to her game room to grab a stack of discs with her favorite movies. Not that it mattered, but she's already seen them a thousand times and didn't have to pay as much attention to the screen.

She knocked on Brigitte's door, her towel swung over her shoulder and discs in her hand. It took the Swede less than two seconds to open the door and greet Hana with a wide smile. The snacks were already layed out on the floor, along with a pile of pillows and blankets. They setteled down and - after a few minutes of making _very important decisisons_ \- picked the movie. To be fair, Hana squabbled only for the sake of it, she didn't even care that much about what they were going to watch, so eventually she gave up and they put on some silly comedy Brigitte has picked.

This seemed like a good idea, until Hana, nudged by the older girl, spilled a drink on her t-shirt.

"Oh damn, I'm so sorry." Brigitte immidiately jumped up and grabbed a box of tissues, forgetting to even stop the movie. The younger girl was already trying to dry the stain with her towel, without much effect. She sighed.

"It's okay, don't worry. Tomorrow is laundry day anyway," she offered a smile, but the mechanic didn't see it - she was busy rummaging through one of her drawers. "What are you looking for?"

"Here!" Brigitte exclaimed triumphantly, turning around. She was holding a gray t-shirt with a cat face on it. "It might be a bit too big, but I think that's the smallest one I own." She handed the clothing to Hana. "I-I can leave if you want to or-"

"It's okay, I'll just turn around," the Korean chimed in and before Brigitte could object, she stood up and turned to face the wall. As she was changing the shirts, she heard Brigitte shuffling on her feet and that brought a small smile to her face. She turned again. "How do I look?" She spread her arms wide and spinned, as if she was presenting a ball gown, not an old t-shirt. The mechanic gave her a thumbs up and Hana noticed a slight blush on her cheeks.

"Great, as always." The red on Brigitte's cheeks deepened by a tone. She sat down and patted the place Hana was sitting at before. They resumed the movie and when the Swede wasn't looking, Hana brought the hem of the t-shirt to her nose and inhaled, smiling just a little bit.

_Okay, this was definitely a good idea._


	5. Of Sweaters and Advice

Brigitte moved sheets of unfinished blueprints to the side of her desk, not even looking at those which fell on the floor in the process. She took a look at the clock above her desk and straightened her back. _Just in time._ For a while she was worried she would spend too much time talking with Hana, but they managed to cut their usual banter short. Apparently the pilot was expecting a call today too, so everything was just fine.

She gave her room one last, quick look and noticed the laundry, still laying on the bed. She jumped out of her chair, running up to deal with a mountain of clothes. And, of course, that was the exact moment when the familiar sound filled the room, causing her to jump once more. In a one, swift motion, Brigitte threw her spare pants from the bed, making sure that none of them would be visible in the frame. Only then she ran back to the desk and pressed the right key.

"Brigitte!" Her mother's smile was as bright as ever. "I thought you forgot!"

"Hey, mom." Brigitte waved her hand.

"How are you? Everything is going well?"

"Yeah, I'm great." She sat down, fixing her ponytail. "I miss home, though. And you." She tried not thinking about just how homesick she's been for all this time, but now it hit her like a hammer. She tried her best to hide the emotions that suddenly overflowed her.

"I imagine you had some trouble finding anyone to talk to, with most of the people there being your dad's age," Ingrid said, picking up a piece of wool and her knitting needles. Brigitte recognized a familiar shape of a sweater in making and figured one of her nieces or nephews is going to get a new, warm piece of clothing. "Though you always preferred the company of those old dogs," her mother sighed, shaking her head slightly. "And now look at you! Running by Reinhardt's side, with a shield of your own! Of course, I'm proud of you, I really am, but I just wish you had more friends!"

"Actually..." Brigitte put her hand on the back of her neck, feeling a blush creeping up in her cheeks. Ingrid's knitting needles stopped clacking as she leaned closer to the camera. "There's that girl..."

"A girl!" her mother exclaimed gleefully. "Is she nice? Does she treat you right? I hope so, otherwise I will have to call your dad and-"

"No, no! It's fine, she's truly great! But..." The mechanic's brows furrowed. She saw her mother tensing up.

"What is it, dear?"

"We're just training partners. I mean, I hope we're friends, too, but I-I don't know if I'm just projecting something or if she's actually interested or... I have a feeling I'm just following her like a puppy." Brigitte ran her hands down her face.

"Oh, don't worry!" Ingrid laughed. "That reminds me of the time when Reinhardt was yearning after that captain Amari - Ana, I guess. And the woman was _married_!" She shook her head. "Big guy never had much luck..."

"I don't think I wanted to know that," Brigitte muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." She raised her hands defensively. "Anyway, I was hanging out with Hana a lot lately and I don't know... I mean, I _know_ she likes me, she _told me_ , and I like her too, but I don't know if she _likes_ or _likes-likes_ me." Brigitte let out a defeated sigh.

"Have you try talking to her about how you feel?" 

\--

"Of course I haven't!" Hana threw her hands in the air, almost falling from her bean bag chair on the floor.

Lucio gave her a confused glance. "But you said..."

"I _told_ her that I liked her, but we didn't _talk_ ," she stressed all the right words. 

"And she likes you back! Why are you making it so difficult?" 

Hana let out a long groan and reached for a chip, but her hand found only an empty package. She kicked the air, pouting.

"You just have to let it go, my dude," Lucio moved his head to the rhythm of his own song playing in the background. If it wasn't the Korean's favorite piece of his, she would be mad. Or more mad than right now.

"Easy for you to say," she huffed.

"Because it's easy to do."

"Tell me again, why are we even friends." Hana reached for a portable keyboard and poked the power button on one of the consoles.

"'Cause one - dating me was too hard for you, and two - you need someone to be the dungeon master when you're in the mood for some traditional roleplay game." Lucio reached over to the side of his bed and pulled a pillow closer.

"Don't think that Winston wouldn't easily replace you," the meka pilot muttered half-heartedly, while typing furiously.

Lucio chuckled. "Oh, he is an amazing storyteller for sure."

"You bet." Hana tapped a few more keys and put the keyboard to the side, throwing her head back. "When are you coming back from this mission?"

"In a..." Lucio looked at something behind the camera eye, "few days. A week max. Soon, my dude."

"Mhm." Hana didn't sound satisfied.

"Okay, gotta go, I need to wake up in four hours. See you soon and make a move on that girl already, damn, Song!" He sent her a grin and ended the call before she could even respond. She was suddenly lest alone with no snacks, no company and a cursor blinking at the end of the sentence she typed a few moments ago. Giant letters forming " _how to tell a girl that you have a crush on her if you're not sure she's gay_ " were almost mocking her.


	6. Of Alarms and Escapes

Hana's brows furrowed as she looked at a monitor in front of her. It was filled with charts and statistics, all marked in red and implying an incoming engine crash. The lights on the bridge flashed red, definitely not helping when it came to stress management. She sighed.

"Athena, could you _please_ turn off those blinkers?" The pilot's voice was tense and _oh my god if I have to see **yet another** flashing red light_ -

"I'm afraid not," the response resonated in the whole room, coming from the speakers on the walls. Hana put two fingers to her temple, as if she was trying to turn off the lights with only the force of her mind. She reached over to a button on the control pannel.

"Lindholm, how's it going." She was demanding informations, not asking questions. _The commander never asks questions._ Or at least that's what they told her at the training course after she was recruited. She had to admit, sometimes she slipped an occasional "what the flying heck, Lindholm?" when interacting with her engineering officer, a tall, buff, Swede with a bright smile and as much talent for fixing the station they were stationed on as for damaging the vital systems in order to update them - so far, with no real impact.

"Not so good, commander." The answer came a few seconds later, during which Hana managed to run at least three different bad scenarios, each of them ending in a slow and painful death. "Angie is very moody today. How are the readings?" Lindholm sounded as if she was just trying to fight a whole squadron of angry bulls with her bare hands, not just trying to fix what was supposed to be a minor failure, though one had to admit it was taking multiple turns for worse with every second. The sounds in the background reminded Hana of nights spent by a bonfire in the woods when she was still young and dreams of sailing through space were just that - dreams. Now it was a nightmare, coming to life as she stood on a deck of an old rust bucket of a space station, orbiting around a star a few years from Earth. The sound of fire was the last thing she wanted to hear right now.

"Bad. Be quick." Without waiting for an answer, she pressed the button again and ended the call. Then she moved her finger over a next one, took a deep breath and prayed for the best.

"Santos, do you have the positions already?"

"Nope, sir commander sir." The response was so quick, she barely managed to finish her sentence. "It's as if they had no footsteps of something like that, dude."

"It's _sir_ for you, Santos," she hissed. "Or commander Song."

"Yeah sure whatever you say, sir Song commander, I'm still working on it, please don't disturb me." She could swear she heard a fridge opening just before her communications officer ended their short conversation. She gritted her teeth. "Athena," she said after a milisecond, "if they get here, you have my permission to use the gas you were never supposed to touch after the incident." She grabbed her blaster and checked the clip.

"Are you sure, commander?" Athena didn't sound convinced, though Hana heard a small note of excitement in her mechanical voice.

"Absolutely. Either that or cut off the oxygen." Hana stopped her swift movements for a moment. "And remember to cut off the controls and seal the doors. We don't know if they even breathe."

Not waiting for a response from the AI, she left the bridge and ran through the corridors, head on torwards the unknown and dangerous enemies.

\--

Uncontrolled fire is never a good news, especially in a small space full of potentially flamable circuits. _Especially_ if this space is on board of an old, decaying space station held together just by the sheer force of will, because if there was a God, he forgot about this place long ago.

Brigitte, on the other hand, was present here for the last two years and knew fairly well what to do when the engine set itself aflame. It's not like it wasn't doing that at least once a week, anyway.

Though, taking their current situation into consideration, the timing was a _little bit unfortunate_ this time. Not always the station was being attacked by some kind of space ninjas or whatever and Brigitte was mostly sad that she won't get to fight them with commander Song. And maybe Lucio, though if she knew him well enough, he will be staying on the backlines, shouting some supportive bullshit at them while they risked their lives in the name of whatever. Just like he did the last time with those weird whatever-they-were half a year ago.

Brigitte raised her glove-clad hand to her forehead and wiped away some sweat. She knew her mask won't hold much longer, as the fire was consuming the oxygen in the filtered air and Athena had better things to do than supervising the engine room all the time. After all, commander has probably already left the AI in charge while she recklessly dived into action. Shaking her head slightly, Brigitte reached for the third extinguisher and aimed, hoping this would be enough for a while.

She pulled the trigger.

\--

Her shot missed just by a width of a single hair, flying right besides a masked face of the alien. She ran into him just around the corner - yeah, okay, he moved quickly and almost noiselessly, just as Santos said, but she didn't expect to meet the intruder so soon. In fact, she hoped to get to the engine room, shout a bit at Lindholm and then go hunting for those unasked guests. Hana held her blaster tightly, shutting her eyes, preparing for immediate death and probably nothing afterwards, when she heard a loud sound of metal hitting another metal. 

"Run!" She heard Lindholm's shout and her body reacted before she could, her legs moving without her order. She heard yet another clattering sound and when she turned out, she caught a glimpse of the Swede using some sort of a metal lid to shield them both from the enemy's projectiles.

They turned and weaved around the corners, the ninja's footsteps growing quieter and quieter. Brigitte caught up and now Hana was having a hard time not falling behind. Eventually, they found what they were looking for. The engineering officer opened the door and pushed commander Song inside of a small, dark space, smelling suspiciously like detergent. The Korean girl reached to put on the lights but nothing happened. She cursed under her breath. _Just when we ran out of lightbulbs..._

"I hope you fixed the engine." Hana crossed her arms, though she didn't have much space for it and there was no way Lindholm could see this gesture in the darkness.

"I put out the fire, sir," said the officer, her voice still tense and hushed, as if she was expecting the ninja to be just behind the door.

"Are we going to collapse into the star?" _Please say yes, oh for the love of everything good, please say yes._

"No."

_Because I haven't suffered enough, figures._

"Incredible," Hana snickered. "I'm proud of you, officer Lindholm."

"Th-thank you, sir." The Swede would probably salute if she had enough space to raise her arm, but right now the broom closet they were hiding in was way too small for that. In fact, the only things separating them right now were Hana's own arms, which meant that Lindholm's chest was exactly two, maybe three layers of fabric away from Hana's skin. She knew. She counted. The numbers were running through her head like startled rabbits.

They stood there in silence, only shifting uncomfortably every once in a while, until the taller girl spoke after what seemed like centuries.

"I-I think we would hear from Lucio by now."

A cold ice brick setteled in Hana's stomach. "Either that or he's just hiding under his own control pannel."

But they both knew what was more likely. As much of a slacker Santos was, he never ran away or hid from the danger if he had to engage. The ninja got him and they both knew it. Hana sighed.

"If we don't make it-" Lindholm started, but got interrupted almost immediately by Hana.

"No. Don't even think like that."

"No, no. I- Sir-" The Swede took a deep breath. "Hana. I wanted to tell you for a long time, really, and I don't want to regret not saying anything. I-"

A sudden buzz caused her to stop. She wiggled a bit and took out a walkie-talkie from her pocket.

"Hey, Hana, Brigitte." Genji's slightly mechanical voice was clearly recognizable. "Lucio and I found a nice movie on tv, so I guess that's it for tonight when it comes to our LARP. It was a good session though, we should take up from there next week."

Brigitte opened the door immidiately after the ninja finished speaking and stormed out of the broom closet. Hana was left standing in the middle of the corridor, blinking slowly, with her head filled with more questions than ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked the general setting of this chapter, you should totally check out Wolf359 - this audio drama is one of my fave series and I took a lot of inspiration from it.  
> Keep your fingers crossed for tomorrow's update, I will be stuck at college for most of the day and I don't know how much I will be able to write during my lectures.


	7. Of Determination and Results

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really late, I'm sorry about that. I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway.

 She woke up to a sound of her alarm going off. Before she gathered the strenght to get out of bed, the comms in her room came alive, filling the space with Angela's soft voice.

"Good morning, Hana. Your training session is not going to take place today," the medic announced. "Brigitte said she's not feeling well, so hopefully we will see you both tomorrow. Have a nice morning!"

At first she considered dropping off again, but she found it difficult, just as falling asleep yesterday. She rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling with groggy eyes. Her brain kept rerunning the events of the last evening, the dark broom closet, the smell of detergent, and Brigitte's sudden flight. Hana didn't know what to think about this whole situation, including her own disappointment when she was standing in the middle of the corridor, still in her costiume, which now was laying on the floor, where she dropped it after coming back to her room, still puzzling over whatever happened.

Hana let out a load groan, rolling around to her side and throwing the covers off the bed in the process. She laid her eyes on the only console she kept in her room, her trusty Nintendo DS, but the thought of playing anything right now didn't appeal to her. She dragged her hand down her face and her mind just kept the memories running on the loop. Her sight rested on her laptop. _Well, it's not like I'm going back to sleep._

When Lucio knocked on her door two hours later, she was knee-deep into her research, with eight different tabs open and a browsing history she'd rather no one saw.

"Yo, my dude, are-"

"Shut up," Hana interrupted him, not even raising her eyes. "I'm in the middle of finding out how to tell Brigitte that she's a giant dumbass and that I love her despite it and if I stop right now I might never do it." Her fingers tapped the keyboard at an almost alarming speed, which caused Lucio to look around for an empty cup of coffee or squashed cans of energy drinks, but nothing like that was visible anywhere near the bed. He plopped down on a chair next to a desk.

"So. Why _exactly_ didn't you tell her yet?"

"Because I'm as much of a dumbass aa she is!" Hana threw her arms up, kicking her laptop off her lap at the same time. "Or even worse! And now it's _my last chance_." She grabbed Lucio's shoulders and shook him.

"Why though," he couldn't help but chuckle.

"Why what."

"Why is it your last chance."

"Because, uh." Hana blinked slowly. "I don't know! Whatever!"

Lucio laughed.

"Get out if you want to make fun of me." Her voice was ice-cold.

"Alright," he got up and stretched, "but just so you know, the last time I saw Brigitte - which was, like, maybe five minutes ago, she was in the canteen."

Lucio didn't even have a chance to say anything else, because Hana jumped out of the bed and ran through the door. He might have heard a distant  _crash_ , but that happens sometimes, right?

\--

It wasn't like she purposefully avoided Hana.

Okay, she totally did.

Calling in sick was a gutless lie, a short-lived one even. Doctor Ziegler probably knew right away that the mechanic was faking and forcing the cough during their short call in the morning, so there was no point in hiding in her room. That was probably the first place where Hana would look for her, plus her supply of sweets was running low, making skipping breakfast almost impossible. 

She treaded carefully, but tried not to make anyone suspicious and finding the right balance between darting her eyes left and right and looking at her interlocutors was a fairly difficult task, but - as far as she could tell - she was nailing it. 

Lucio was quite surprised to see her thos early in the canteen, but didn't ask any questions. She thanked him for that - if he decided to pry, she wouldn't have enough energy to lie. They ate together, cracking a few jokes and talking about their plans for the evening; Lucio admitted he was planning to play some retro games with Hana and that was the moment when Brigitte went silent. The DJ gave her a suspicious look and quickly changed the topic. 

"So what are you gonna do today?" 

Brigitte stabbed the remains of her oatmeal with a spoon. "Probably hit the gym, maybe go running. I don't know yet," she admitted with a shrug. 

"If you need some company, hit me up." Lucio winked at her. "Anyway, gotta go, fast. Bye see ya." And with that, he was gone, leaving Brigitte with a stack of dirty plates. 

She managed to do the dishes without anyone interrupting - save for Lena, who blinked past her to get something from the fridge and disappeared before the Swede could even mumble a hello. Thankfully, Hana was nowhere to be seen and it made Brigitte feel both relieved and uneasy. 

_Did I really mess up that badly?_   She left the canteen after making sure the corridor was empty. _Maybe she just doesn't want to have anything to do with me?_ She shook her head, clenching her jaw. 

"Brigitte Lindholm!" A familiar, albeit a little breathless, voice resonated down the corridor. The mechanic froze, her heart suddenly speeding up. _Oh, oh no, oh no..._ She turned slowly to face Hana storming torwards her. She had a very serious look on her face, despite wearing a t-shirt with a faded bunny pattern and a pair of shorts, so Brigitte had no real problem treating her seriously. Whatever was that she wanted from the mechanic, she was going to get it and, well, the Swede could do nothing but stand in place, preparing for whatever was going to happen to her. 

Hana had her finger pointed in an almost accusatory gesture as she stopped in front of Brigitte, only half a step between them. Her eyebrows were pursed and she wore a mix of a pout and determination on her face. She took a giant breath.

"Brigitte Lindholm, you giant dumbass. I love you." Hana crossed her arms. "There. I said it. I said it. I said it!" She looked around as if she expected some kind of an applause from a nonexistent audience. 

Brigitte gently put her hands on the pilot's cheeks, and _wow they're so soft_ , turning her slightly to look into her eyes.

"You're not any less of a dumbass," the mechanic couldn't help but smile.

"Yeah, I figured," Hana shrugged and closed the distance between them, which caught Brigitte off-guard.

_Wow she's kissing me and her lips are so soft and she's kissing me and that's not what I expected but-_

Hana stepped back, the look on her face a little more worried now, but Brigitte pulled her back. This time the kiss was longer, full of relief, without a trace of doubt.

"I love you too." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading again! It was a great experience and I really appreciate the attention this fic has gotten! <3 See you all again sometime!

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction is going to be loosely connected chapters, with each one being a prompt fill for Mekamechanic Week 2018. c:  
> Find me on tumblr (deadblanket.tumblr.com) or on twitter (@deadblanket) and keep your fingers crossed for an update tomorrow.


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